Dan Rhodes: Reflections from the High Peaks
High Peaks Alliance is pleased to share the third in a series of six guest op-eds from volunteer Dan Rhodes. In 2024, Dan and his wife settled in Kingfield with their son, building a life and making a home in the High Peaks region while Dan travels back and forth for his work.
In this series, Dan will offer reflections on life in Maine’s High Peaks region, community connections, and the value of conserving access to the lands and trails that make this place special.
Gate C vs. Trailhead
The last time I was at an airport, harried and yearning for home, something struck me. In an airport, almost everyone seems vaguely hostile: we are tense, irritable, anxious to get on with our journeys. An airport is an intermediate step between where you are at that moment and wherever it is you’re going. We regard each other like extras in a movie.
On the trail, though, while there are always exceptions, running into someone is a welcome thing. You exchange smiles (unless they’re carrying a portable speaker and blasting music, in which case it’s eye-daggers), you engage in small talk. You share, and then you move on. The kinship we feel on trails is real, maybe because there’s no separate agenda like there is at an airport. You’re out to be present, and being present helps us see one another as individuals, not extras.
📸 Reeds Loop Trailhead
A View We All Belong To
Trails can equalize. It matters much less on the trail who the other is, or what they believe, or where they’re from–you recognize them as a fellow because you’re sharing something precious together. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the last curve before the trail unveils a vista that only you and they have seen so far today. The other person you encounter might be someone you haven’t seen in years, or your neighbor, or it could be the president of your bank. It almost literally does not matter; the trail has you meet together as equals on a kind of shared journey.
Trails are precious because they’re one of the few public spaces left where we let our guards down almost entirely and operate from a place of welcome and openness. To me, that’s a powerful benefit we overlook amongst all the other fantastic reasons to support public access and conservation. But it’s important–the whole notion of community is predicated on the idea of connection on some level, and so these public places where that connection is most apparent should be preserved.
📸 TRAC hikes the Scenic 7’s Bemis Stream and Mountain
Many Hand, Light Work
Preserving them takes hard work. Not everyone can volunteer their money, though thankfully, volunteering and service can take many forms. The High Peaks Alliance is always looking for people to help–trails need to be blazed and maintained, for example. That was how I got started with HPA, equipped with a high-powered weed whacker and some sturdy boots, helping a few other volunteers clear an overgrown trail. Even this column is an example of how to make an effort, even from far away.
To me, it is a joy to greet others on the trail. We should remember the many who work so hard to make that possible. Think of them when you step on a carefully placed stone to forge a stream, or see a trail blaze just ahead as you start to wonder if you’ve lost your way. And if you can, volunteer, however you are able. And when I see you on the trail, I’ll be sure to stop, and to smile, and to greet you in the spirit of fellowship.
Take Action
This is the third in a series of six op-eds by Dan Rhodes. Stay tuned each month for future pieces exploring the intersections of everyday life, public access, and outdoor recreation in Maine’s High Peaks region.
If you value access to these lands and trails, we hope you’ll join us by volunteering, attending events, or supporting the High Peaks Alliance’s work to protect public access for generations to come.
📸 Volunteer Levi Washburn maintains the trail.
